


Damn It, Alice!

by LindleyJo



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Adult Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 20:55:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1831951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindleyJo/pseuds/LindleyJo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why was he acting so sheepish about this? It’s not like he was some bashful virgin before the apocalypse.</p><p>Who was he kidding? That’s exactly what he was.</p><p>Written for Iron Zombies After Dark! Challenge - June 2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damn It, Alice!

**Author's Note:**

> I used this prompt:
> 
> http://tinypic.com/usermedia.php?uo=fNkd6hpTbcPnRQjBe8uJLIh4l5k2TGxc#.U6ef3Y1dWik
> 
> Un-betaed as usual. I think it turned out okay. I'll try for some actual smut next round though...

Sam couldn’t keep the color from his cheeks as he walked to meet Maxine at the med tent. He had even taken the roundabout way just to avoid seeing many people on his way there. Doing this was literally the _last_ thing he wanted, but Alice had told him to. And with the grey plague still spreading like wildfire and general sanitation at an all-time low he didn’t want to die from an otherwise common infection. Plus what he could see of his… wounds… was looking a little too raw for his taste.

So he had taken what would have normally been his lunch break to sneak over to Maxine for some ointment. Or bandages. Or rubbing alcohol. Whatever she could spare, really. God, he hoped she could spare something – those scratches were really starting to hurt. 

“Damn it, Alice,” he grumbled, trying desperately not to recall the way she had felt against him the just a few hours before. Her skin touching his, her breath in his ear, and her nails trailing down his back. It had been, well, _spectacular_ at the time, but the aftermath was proving to be slightly less than wonderful. He had woken up at the crack of dawn to find small spots of blood on his bunk – Rajit wouldn’t be too happy about that – and Alice sleeping soundly beside him. 

From what he had seen in movies, he had half expected her to look like some sort of ethereal goddess. To be honest, she looked anything but. She was still beautiful – she would always be beautiful to him – but her hair was shoved haphazardly in a tangled mess above her head and he definitely spotted a few specks of drool on the shirt she had been using as a pillow. It was when he started to lean over to wake her that he winced and glanced at what he could see of his back.

Scratches cris-crossed his back. Most of them had faded into little pink lines, but there were a few that had turned into large, red welts where she had actually managed to break skin. She had laughed when she woke up to see him worrying about them, and told him to go see Maxine at lunch if it worried him that much. He had tried to argue with her, really he had, but _somehow_ she had managed to convince him.

With a resolved sigh, Sam pushed the flap to the med tent aside and stepped in. “Dr. Meyers?” he called, glancing around the makeshift hospital. “Maxine?” There were a couple battered, old cots tucked in the corner of the large tent and a few tables covered in what ever medically things the runners managed to find. That soon after the outbreak, it really hadn’t been all that much and he definitely didn’t want to risk taking any necessities. Not for this. “Maxine? Are you in-“

He was cut off by the doctor entering the tent a plate of food in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. She dropped them with a thud on one of the only bare tables before she noticed him. “Oh! Hey, Sam!” she greeted cheerfully. Her lab coat was crumpled and stained in a few places, and she was looking a little overexerted, but that was honestly just how people were looking at that point. He heard the shuffle of papers and the creak of an old chair as Maxine sat down to eat. “I was planning on working over my break, but you’re more than welcome to join me if you want to!” She had barely cast him a second glance, her eyes glued to the notes in front of her.

“Well…” Sam began, running a hand through his dirty hair. Damn, he needed a haircut. “Well, actually, I’m here for… uh…” Why was he acting so sheepish about this? It’s not like he was some bashful virgin before the apocalypse.

Who was he kidding? That’s exactly what he was. 

Maybe that was why this one little request was so tough.

“I need your… opinion… on something,” he continued, wanting desperately to run and hide. Out of habit, or maybe to convince himself he was the only person around, he squinted his eyes shut. He could joke with the best of them but when it got down to _actually_ talking about his _real_ sex life, it seemed like his brain just shut off completely.

When he finally managed to reopen his eyes, Maxine was looking up at him with concern. “What’s going on, Sam? You weren’t… you weren’t bitten, were you?” she questioned, getting up to look quickly at his exposed arms.

“What? No! No! It’s nothing like that!” he explained quickly. He couldn’t have everyone thinking he was turning into a zom from this! “I… ah… I… just look.” Before he could stop himself, he was pulling his shirt over his head and turning around so that the doctor could see. He closed his eyes again and tried to breathe calmly, but he couldn’t help his nerves.

“Oh thank God,” he heard Maxine’s relieved chuckles. “I thought it was something serious!”

“What?! This is serious!” he cried, turning to face her and almost immediately regretting it. She was trying to hide her grin with her hand but it most definitely was not working. He was trying desperately to sputter out something along the lines of, “Don’t laugh at me!” and “What if it’s infected?” but he only managed a few incoherent syllables before Maxine cut him off.

“It’s fine, Sam,” she said, the grin still plastered to her stupid, smug face. After walking to the other side of the tent, she pulled a small, yellow tube from a battered box. “Here. Neosporin,” she explained as she placed the tube in his hand. “Wash your back in the showers and have _someone_ help you apply this. I’m sure Alice would be more than willing-“

“Shut up!” he snapped. He pulled his favorite dirty shirt over his head as quickly as he could without agitating the scratches marring his back and went to look for the woman who had given them to him in the first place. “Damn it, Alice.”


End file.
